Mr. T stormed over to my desk and snatched up the notebook on which I was writing. During his lesson, I had been drawing a monster, something that I had done frequently the year before. Mr. T scowled at my creative concoction, ripped it from my small, one-subject notebook, and began exploring the contents of my notebook. He soon found that the notes of different subjects were spontaneously added to those of other subjects in no particular order. In fact, some science notes began on the very last page and went backwards. It was only about a week into school and I had violated almost every notebook conduct policy from doodling to combining subjects.
Despite our rough beginning, my fourth grade teacher, Mr. T, had the greatest impact on me. Still to this day I can only think of a limited club of teachers who have come close to having the impact that he had. Mr. T had an uncanny ability to instill intrinsic values into students that walked through his door. Somehow, he was able to inspire classrooms and mold their malleable minds into ideal citizens. Every single parent of a fourth grader in the Cumberland school system was on their knees every night praying that their child would have Mr. T. My mother was among those parents.
My mother wanted me to have Mr. T because every December, just around the holidays, his students would perform A Christmas Carol, a Dickens favorite that was often the talk of the town. My mother wanted me to have Mr. T because she wanted me to be in that play. Knowing that I was shy and hoping that being in the play would help me break out of my shell. Although I was very introverted and speaking in front of an audience was not on my daily agenda, Mr. T was somehow able to talk me into being an active participant in his show. It was one of the best experiences of my entire life. I was proud to say that I stood in front of a crowded auditorium full of people as “Tiny Tim,” the poor, yet optimistic child living with an incurable disease which left him destitute and destined for death. A little bit of pride was all I needed to begin to break out of my shell.
But even then, my heart swelling with actualization, Mr. T pushed to instill more confidence in me. In class, he would artfully sculpt each student’s dreams. He would tell us that we could do anything, but something about the way his words were formed that made them weigh more than every other adult that was trying to convey the same message. Even after fourth grade, Mr. T was still offering words of wisdom and encouragement. When I ran into him at a Providence Bruins game, he gave me a pep talk about how the future was just beyond my grasp and how I just needed to reach for it.
All of his words have truly stuck with me throughout my academic excursions. His inspirational expertise has helped push me through some of my lazier times. In fact, my mother used to cite the fact that Mr. T would not like my minimalist attitude. Also, most of my elementary growth is at the credit of his work. My growth was especially due to the fact that I was a participant in one of his locally famous plays. I am truly honored to have had Mr. T as a teacher and grateful for everything he has done for me.
Despite our rough beginning, my fourth grade teacher, Mr. T, had the greatest impact on me. Still to this day I can only think of a limited club of teachers who have come close to having the impact that he had. Mr. T had an uncanny ability to instill intrinsic values into students that walked through his door. Somehow, he was able to inspire classrooms and mold their malleable minds into ideal citizens. Every single parent of a fourth grader in the Cumberland school system was on their knees every night praying that their child would have Mr. T. My mother was among those parents.
My mother wanted me to have Mr. T because every December, just around the holidays, his students would perform A Christmas Carol, a Dickens favorite that was often the talk of the town. My mother wanted me to have Mr. T because she wanted me to be in that play. Knowing that I was shy and hoping that being in the play would help me break out of my shell. Although I was very introverted and speaking in front of an audience was not on my daily agenda, Mr. T was somehow able to talk me into being an active participant in his show. It was one of the best experiences of my entire life. I was proud to say that I stood in front of a crowded auditorium full of people as “Tiny Tim,” the poor, yet optimistic child living with an incurable disease which left him destitute and destined for death. A little bit of pride was all I needed to begin to break out of my shell.
But even then, my heart swelling with actualization, Mr. T pushed to instill more confidence in me. In class, he would artfully sculpt each student’s dreams. He would tell us that we could do anything, but something about the way his words were formed that made them weigh more than every other adult that was trying to convey the same message. Even after fourth grade, Mr. T was still offering words of wisdom and encouragement. When I ran into him at a Providence Bruins game, he gave me a pep talk about how the future was just beyond my grasp and how I just needed to reach for it.
All of his words have truly stuck with me throughout my academic excursions. His inspirational expertise has helped push me through some of my lazier times. In fact, my mother used to cite the fact that Mr. T would not like my minimalist attitude. Also, most of my elementary growth is at the credit of his work. My growth was especially due to the fact that I was a participant in one of his locally famous plays. I am truly honored to have had Mr. T as a teacher and grateful for everything he has done for me.